Unmasked
by BansheeHowler
Summary: After Jason Todd's death, Robin throws himself into his work - but a new Thief, bearing the blood-stained suit of Red X, creates a new sense of purpose in Robin. But his new found determination sparks a rift in the team, and, when Starfire is taken, the Titans will risk anything to get her back... RobinxStarxRed X. RavenxBB.
1. Death In The Family

The letter arrived sometime after breakfast. It was a Tuesday, Robin remembered, and the team had just been called to a gas station robbery deep in the heart of Jump City. As he gazed at the letter in his hand, with the insistent beeping of his T-Phone ringing in the background space, he tried to convince himself that Alfred's handwriting wasn't shakier than usual, and that the smudged ink of his name and address was a matter of the thundering storm outside, and not a dried tear, carried to him from the Manor so far away.

He was loathe to admit it, but he was.. scared to open it. And so, when Cyborg called out an impatient "let's go, Robin!" from the elevator door, he pushed the letter into the back of his mind, and his worries deeper still, and went forward to meet his teammates.

! !

As soon as he got back to the Tower he powered straight for his room, ignoring a "cakes of pan, Robin?" from Starfire, and the way Raven was discreetly not-so-discreetly making faces about his aura and burying her nose deep in her books to avoid his pointed stare. With his door shut behind him he allowed himself a moment of discomposure, leaning tiredly against the door that lay strong across his shoulder blades, and running a gloved hand over his aching forehead.

The letter lay innocently on the bed, crisp white paper blatant against the matte black of his silken sheets. He straightened up, tightened his shoulders for the advance, and forced himself to stride towards the bed without reserves, swiping the letter from the bed in one harsh movement, opening it in another.

 _Dear Master Richard_ , it began, and he had to smile wryly at that - he could count on one hand the number of times Alfred had called him _just_ Richard, despite the many hours spent over the years beseeching him to do just that.

 _It it with great regret and sadness that I am to inform of the passing of your beloved brother, Jason P. Todd. He was a man greatly loved by us all here at the Manor, and we wish to express our deepest sympathies for your loss._

And so it went on. By the time he reached the bottom of the letter the letters were blurring suspiciously in front of his eyes, and he barely took in the attached details for the closed Funeral service, scheduled for the Friday, three days from then. His hand ghosted over two more dried spots on the bottom of the page, and his hands trembled to think of Alfred - rarely was he so unprofessional as to leave apparent tear stains, but then he thought of how Alfred would hardly be able to rewrite the entire page again, adding to his grief tenfold. A third spot soon made itself apparent, wet nestled between the two dry, and, for the first time in a long time, Robin allowed himself to cry.

! !

He attended the funeral alone.

He didn't want the pity he had seen stirring in Star's eyes, or the comfort Cyborg had displayed by the simple gesture of a hand on the shoulder when he said to them he had to leave town for a few days. Beast Boy had been indignant about the departure, claiming that the team needed him, until Raven had lain a quiet hand across his knee and, with her calm, quiet demeanor, commanded they listen to his explanation. He didn't give them much, and avoided their eyes as he said a simple, "there's been a death in the family."

He could feel the guilt stirring in his gut like a thick, poisonous viper. He should've been there. Whatever happened, he should've been there.

Afraid he would betray the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside, he thanked the team curtly for their proffered support, but left as soon as the sun began to sink in the sky.

When at last, after a long ride to Gotham made worse by the fact that along the way he was left alone with just himself and his thoughts, the Wayne Manor rose like a monolith in the distance, a spearpoint for him to head to, he wondered briefly if he should be concerned about the faint stirrings of anger that clawed their way up his throat, until his breath was coming in hard, fast gasps, and he had to slew his R-Cycle to a stop along the perfectly trimmed driveway side to get his emotions under control.

The voices in his head shouted and screamed and his vision misted red for what seemed like an eternity.

 _Where the hell was Bruce?_

His subconscious whispered that while Bruce wasn't there, neither was he, but he was angry and upset and grieving a whole slew of emotions that he couldn't identify, so he started up the motorcycle again and roared around the roundabout to come to a screeching halt in front of the grand hall entrance.

He burst through the front door like an explosion, startling a maid who was polishing the vast silver vases that braced the side of the entrance. He barely took in the flowers - bountiful and beautiful floral arrangements of cascading, stark white lilies.

The flower of death.

His legs took him faster and faster through the manor, and he blatantly ignored the extravagance around him - goldplated portraits of people long passed, and gilded halls of clean marble slates - until he arrived, chest heaving, at the door of the kitchen, but what he saw drew the strength from his bones and made him hesitate on the wooden threshold.

Bruce sat at the table, crystal glass of whisky on the rocks, just the way he always ordered it, clasped in one loose hand. He suit, always impeccable, was wrinkled, and his ramrod straight posture was wilted like a dying flower as he slumped, defeated, at the table. His eyes were cast in shadow, and Robin was almost afraid to seek them out, scared at what he might find in those bottomless depths.

"Master Dick." The voice behind him startled him, and he spun to find Alfred behind him, his clear blue eyes clouded with grief. It was really saying something that even Alfred, butler extraordinaire, could sneak up on him, regardless of the distraction of the defeated Batman sitting slumped at the table, drinking at nine in the morning.

It made him feel like a child again, running around Bruce's ankles and sneaking Alfred's hot buns from the oven while the elderly man pretended not to see, but passed over his special chocolate syrup with a wink and a smile. It made him feel like the hole that had opened in a chasm through his chest, the night of his parents' deaths, had torn open again, breaking all the careful stitching he had done all these years.

He was scared. He was vulnerable. And he didn't know how to fix it.

And so he took the first step, offering Alfred a nod and a smile, albeit small, before he gathered his courage and stepped through the door, rising to meet the gaze of the man before him that now pinned his square between the eyes.

"Robin", the other man greeted, and the thick baritone of his voice greeting his second son conveyed more sorrow than he would ever admit to.

"Bruce", he responded, taking a seat across from the man. He sighed and ran an unsteady hand across his face.

"What happened?"

Bruce looked pained, and Robin could have sworn that, even for a second, he saw a flash of something that he once would have called guilt flash across his Mentor's eyes. Bruce sighed and looked him in the eye.

"We had a fight. Something stupid - he wanted the car, I said he needed more training to work solo, he said that you were allowed to work with your 'band of misfits', and I said too much about his immaturity. He claimed favouritism, and I tried to explain that it wasn't like that, that I care for you both equally, but he got aggravated and it escalated too quickly. He left in a rush, and stole my police responder. There was a break-in, a robbery, in Gotham Central Bank. He responded before I even knew, and went in on his own. He was so eager to prove himself to me. To you."

His voice broke off, and he took a long draft of his whisky, smacking his lips when he emptied the glass. He cleared his throat and started again, shoulders hulked over as he studied the intricate workings of the oak table.

"It was a late night raid, but there was one guard, and they had him hostage. Jason was...angry. He wasn't thinking straight. They set charges throughout the building, but he didn't stop to diffuse them, he just charged on ahead. That was his mistake. He was taught better. I watched the security footage myself."

Robin felt a twinge of bitterness twist in his heart - even when discussing the death of a comrade, of a family member, he couldn't stop assessing.

"They stripped him of weapons, claimed if he surrendered they would let the man go, and he was overconfident. He agreed."

Robin knew where this was going, could feel from the sink of his stomach that he wouldn't like where this went, but he didn't motion to him to stop. This was his punishment, his atonement. He had to know.

"The building blew too early - the charges were set on the wrong wires, and the shorting set it off earlier than even the robbers expected. When the building collapsed he jumped on top of the guard. He-"

Bruce's voice shattered and he looked into the bottom of the glass with eyes that couldn't quite focus on the present. A deep breath rattled in his chest, and he pushed himself to continue.

"He was severely injured… The explosions ruptured a gas pipeline deep beneath the building. The guard made it out before the fire, but Jason was trapped. He...he burned with the building."

Bruce slumped his head in defeat, and Robin just stared at the man before him, who, in the entire time of knowing him, could only remember a handful of instances that he had seen the broken man behind the mask.

Bruce lifted his head and beseeched Robin with his eyes, begging for a forgiveness that Robin felt incapable of giving.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I know that he was your family and-"

Robin snapped then - the anger that he felt on the drive in returned in thick cloying hands that grasped around his windpipe and squeezed until he was looking through a vision spotted with black and blue. He could feel the anger rising up his throat, exploding from behind tight lips into the stunted air between them.

"He was _our_ family! He was ours! And you weren't there Bruce! Where were you? He needed you! This is all your fault!" he screamed, and he was standing now, and his chest was heaving in time to the gallop of his heartbeat, and his lips were screaming obscenities that landed like weights across Bruce's shoulder, and nestled into Robin's heart.

"This is _your_ fault!" He shrieked, and shoved Bruce from his chair with hands that too easily clasped into fists.

"You don't think I don't know that?!" Bruce yelled back, his composure slipping from him like a black veil, and the glass that had been clasped in his hands met the wall in an unholy bang that left shattered glass showering to the ground with a tinkle like the death knell of the church bell chimes.

"You don't think I know that everytime I walk past his room, and it stands empty? You think I don't know that when his body is lying in a coffin in the living room where he once breathed?" Bruce's chest was heaving just as hard as Robin's, and as he yelled spittle flew from his lips, and his bloodshot eyes met Robin's mask.

The quiet between them was deafening as they stared eachother down, as Alfred wordlessly moved between them to the pile of glittering glass shards that littered the floor, picking them up with hands that trembled imperceptibly.

"It's your fault." Robin breathed, turning to leave the room, but, as he went, both of the older men heard him mutter to himself, in a voice too weary for one his age, "it's my fault."

! !

And so he attended the funeral alone, though he was surrounded by people. He stood staunchly at the front of the room, shoulders proud beneath a tux too tight across a chest that boiled with the effort of hiding things unsaid. He observed the memorial slideshows, the memoirs of the businessmen Bruce had invited regardless of the 'closed' state of the funeral, who offered condolences while their eyes were firmly trained on his pocket.

When the time came, he stood alone in front of a room of strangers and read robotically from the cards Alfred had pressed to his palm an hour earlier, unable to connect to the words that, with carefully phrased sentences and clauses, expressed his grief in a way that completely cloaked the underworld that had claimed Jason with claws and teeth and blood.

His hands, when he grasped the silver handles of the intricate coffin, were steady, and he watched with dry eyes as the husk of the man he once knew was lowered into the cold embrace of the ground, feeling as if a shard of his shattered heart was buried with him.

And so he attended the funeral alone, and so he left alone, and allowed himself to get lost between two houses that no longer felt like home.


	2. Red X Once More

They were worried about him. He could see it in the gazes he refused to hold, the way they drifted around him like the ebb and sway of the tide, close, closer, but never quite close enough.

Starfire watched him from her perch on the couch, with her legs tucked under her, nestled between the warmth of Beast Boy and the reassuring bulk of Cyborg as they battled it out for Race Champion in a racing game that she struggled to understand. He stood in the kitchen, calmly brewing a coffee, methodically grinding the beans and stretching the milk. Raven was nowhere in sight, probably curled up with a book and blanket in her room.

He fished a stack of waffles from the fridge and swiped the coffee from the bench, before turning to retreat once more to the seeming solace of his room. He turned, only to find Starfire there, her beautiful green eyes wide with concern and sympathy.

"Robin", she began, and he had to resist the urge to shuffle sheepishly from foot to foot.

"I know that the death of a family member is difficult, and I just want you to know that-"

Her well meaning speech was cut short by the blaring of the warning system and the cop radio, a permanent fixture on Robin's belt, that warbled with the details of a reported break-in in downtown Jump City. His attention was immediately stolen from Starfire's gaze to the T-Phone that appeared in his hand, and he struggled to dredge a feeling of regret at cutting Star short, but found no such feeling in his veins.

Instead he felt adrenaline and a sense of purpose and determination enter his bones - this was the fourth break-in in the past month since he returned from the Manor and the crook always managed to escape barely minutes before they arrived at the scene, despite the speed at which they responded.

He needed to get this guy. He needed to prove to his team that he wasn't the frail shell they seemed to think he had become.

And so he shoved the coffee and food back on the bench and called for the Team to assemble in the garage, and ran away from Star and the guilt that stirred, a now familiar weight, in the empty chasm of his chest.

! !

The Titans had arrived too late, again. But, they were closer this time - Robin could feel it. And so he ran into the building, ahead of the team, just in time to catch a flash of a black cape and an 'X' slashed across the wall in a splash of red so vivid that he hoped dearly it wasn't blood.

He made to run after the dark figure jumping out of the window but Cyborg's yell drew him back. He spun on his heel to look back at his team, and only then took in the carnage of the room, his eyes widening from behind the mask.

The store, a simple pawn shop on the West side of Jump, once a respectable establishment, with wide shelves that housed an array of instruments, and glass cases displaying precious gems and jewelry, was completely trashed. The shelves had been cast to the floor in a shower of splintered wood and shattered glass, and the front desk was splintered by what looked like a major impact.

Cyborg stood over the ruins with Beast Boy hovering anxiously at his shoulder, and Robin could see the flash and flare of Starfire's brilliant hair flitting from behind the trashed counter. The colorful displays were empty - everything of value had been completely stripped. He stepped closer to the counter, and let out an audible gasp at what he saw.

The owner was slumped against the wall, his arm cradling his bloodied leg, which lay at an unnatural angle across the scratched hardwood floor. Raven and Starfire crouched next to him, Raven using her powers to assess him while Star held her hands tightly around his leg, desperately trying to staunch the steady blood flow. Her green eyes were tinted with fear and desperation, and she spoke rapidly to the injured man in her mother tongue, trying to reassure him even as her hands shook and trembled in his blood.

Electronic lights flickered above him from where the bulbs were shattered and cracked, and he rapidly called an ambulance, directing it to their location. Beast Boy was picking through the rubble, trying to desperately put everything back in order and placement, and Robin could see his shoulder blades flexing beneath his shirt as he fought the rise of fear and the urge to shift into something safer. He walked closer to the X on the wall, noting that it wasn't marked with blood but spray paint, and that there was something stuck in the middle.

He walked closer, boots crunching over the loose glass underfoot, until he reached the wall, stopping cold when he saw what was placed in the middle of the X, dead center.

It was a shuriken, viciously pointed and painted the color of fresh blood, blades tinted black.

He knew this shuriken.

He was always intimately familiar with the weapons he forged himself, and this one hailed from a haunted past he would rather forget.

His brow furrowed as he plucked it from the wall and rested it in his palm; the weight as perfectly balanced as the day he had made it.

He knew where it was from - the Red X suit. _His_ Red X suit. The one that was _supposed_ to be locked up safely in Titan Tower's vault, never to see the light of day again. Did this mean that someone had stolen the suit? But this was the _fourth_ robbery - surely no one was so good that they could get past their security, steal a precious item, and get away with for nearly a _month_ before anyone released.

His thoughts were shattered by Cyborg's shout and Starfire's cry of distress. She was halfway across the floor towards him, and behind him he could see Raven floating the owner out on a bed of energy as the approaching sirens got steadily closer, Beast Boy glued to her side. What made Cyborg yell was the explosive dangled above Star's head, attached to the steel beams of the industrial style roof. The countdown gleamed a bright red ZERO for one split second before a deafening crack was heard and the building exploded in a bright flash of light.


	3. ZERO

Robin desperately tried to leap towards Starfire, who stared at him with eyes wide with a terror he never wanted to see again. She reached for him, her lips forming a silent plea before the blast caught him around the middle and tossed him like a rag doll to the wall behind him, dead center of the red X.

With a groan he pushed himself to his knees, raspy cough tearing out of his throat as he blinked dust from his eyes and shook it from his hair. He struggled to his feet, leaning a shoulder against the wall for support as he wrapped a firm arm around his pulsing ribs. Waving a hand in front of his face he stumbled a few steps, trying to call for his friends, and having to stop and wet his lips with an anxious tongue before he could formulate words. The dust on his lips tasted like failure and fear, and he pushed on faster, his voice a rough rasp in the ringing air.

"Star? Cy? Raven? Beast Boy?" He yelled, ducking under a dangling support beam, warped and wrapped around a chunk of crumbling concrete.

"Starfire!" He yelled, desperate now, and his hand landed on a large chunk of concrete, directly where she had been, and his fears reared to life. His gloves shredded as he pawed desperately at the rubble, barely aware of the sobs wracking his body as he dug desperately, coughs shaking out of his bent frame as the dust still lingering in the air cloyed his throat.

It felt like he couldn't breathe, and all he could think of was Starfire's face, her elegant hand reached out to his, her lips forming a silent scream. The concrete was stained red now, and he was barely aware that his fingers were being torn to shreds without the protection of his gloves.

A hand on his shoulder startled him a swung around to face them, his fists already up and ready. Beast Boy and Raven stood behind him, looking worse for wear but clean, except the dust swirling around their ankles, and _alive._ He choked off a sob at the sight of them and clasped onto Beast Boy desperately.

"Where's Star? Where's Cy? Are they okay?" His voice was a raw tenor, but he no longer cared about looking weak in front of his team, he just wanted to find his friends. His family. A thick form moved forwards towards him from the swirling dust, and he had never been so glad to see the hulking figure of Cyborg, who, apart from the very pissed off expression, seemed uninjured and safe and - best of all - cradled a rumpled and scared Starfire in his arms. He ran forward and crashed into them, grabbing Star's face in his hands, scanning her frantically. She had a thin cut on one cheek, and her eyes shone with tears, but she offered him a watery smile, and for him that meant the world.

He released a shaking breath and dropped his forehead to hers.

"You're okay", he muttered, almost to himself, and started at the tentative touch on his face. She was looking at him tenderly, and she wiped a stray tear from his cheek, her hand resting on his face.

"I am okay, Robin", she stated, and, although her voice shook, he believed her.

He nodded at her and looked Cyborg straight in the eye for the first time in days and offered him a heartfelt "Thankyou", that Cyborg knew cost him more than he would care to admit.

He turned to face Raven again, his team leader persona falling over him like an old cloak as he curtly nodded to the damage around them.

"You all okay?" At their confirming nods he smiled briefly, glad as ever that they were safe.

"Where's the owner?" He asked, leading the way to the now significantly wider doorway, discreetly wiping his face on his torn sleeve as his team pretended not to see. Beast Boy almost immediately burst into an animated account of their brush with death, and he was glad for the chatter to wash away the voices clammering for attention in his own head.

"It was so cool - so the bomb goes off, right, and Raven throws - literally throws! - this guy out of the window in a bubble to keep him safe, and then makes this bigass shield over us, pulling me down with her, and we barely saw Cyborg grab Starfire and blast the bomb, unfortunately, towards you. I think you caught the brunt of it, but, man, I just couldn't believe Raven threw the dude out the window! I mean talk about brutal protection…"

Robin tuned him out now, and wandered out into the light, shielding his eyes against the setting sun. Police cars were set up half a block back, and armed defenders waited from behind thick plastic shields for the dust to abate. Beneath the flashing lights of an ambulance he can see paramedics working hurriedly on the man Raven saved, and suddenly his shoulders seem so heavy and he can't stop the fatigue crawling up his skin.

He trudged his way to the R-Cycle, trying hard to ignore the fireworks that burst beneath his ribs every time he walked forward, and withheld a grimace as he swung his leg over his bike, and raised his helmet to his dusty head. His thoughts swirled around the shuriken that had been lodged in the wall, and was now doubtlessly lost in the rubble that was once a shop. He turned to watch Cyborg help Starfire into the car, although she insisted that a sprained ankle was no cause for distress, and, once sure they were assembled once more, took off towards the Tower as fast as the bike would allow him, thoughts on a suit dipped in blood.

! !

Trembling hands pushed the lock sequence slowly, almost as if he pushed too fast, too hard,the fragile hope he clung to fiercely would shatter. Three floors below he was sure the Titans were getting out of the T-Car, and he desperately wanted to hold Starfire in his arms and never let go, let her gentle voice wash away the fear that was mirrored in that moment from her eyes to his, but he needed to _know_ if the suit was safe.

He slipped quietly through the automatic door as it hissed open, and pushed the button the clasp the door shut behind his rapid footsteps, traversing down the silver hallway quickly now, legs pushing his forward faster and faster as he got closer, his breath coming in gasps now.

Finally Robin stopped in front of the door at the end of the hall, and, with a fortifying breath that didn't fortify him at all, pushed the door open.

"Oh, fuck", he breathed, because, before him, the room lay empty.


	4. Distance

Cyborg caught up with him as he paced the dark hallways back to his room, his hand over his mouth as he thought furiously. His ribs ached in stings and stabs while he breathed, and his cape was dusted a dark grey, swirling behind him in the evening light.

"Robin." He heard Cy's deep baritone behind him, but carried on even faster now, not wanting to face the accusations he knew would linger behind Cyborg's eyes.

"Robin!" Cyborg yelled, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around to face him. Cyborg's eyes were hard and angry, and his mech body now sported several new scratches and cuts, one of his robotic hands throwing off sparks every now and then from a deep gash across his palm, revealing the intricate panelling and wires beneath. Cyborg's eyes searched Robin's, his face drawn and tired.

"What's up with you man? You've been spaced every since the fu-." He cleared his throat, his human eye dropping his hardening gaze.

"Ever since you visited… home."

"I'm fine", Robin said curtly, pulling his shoulder from Cyborg's insistent grip, turning to walk away once more.

"But Starfire's not." Cyborg's quiet voice drew him to stop, and he paused, the bracing of his shoulder blades the only sign Cyborg could pick up from the back that he was faced with.

"She's shaken up, Robin. We _all_ are. You've been so distant lately - no one knows what's going on with you. What's up, Robin? Talk to me."

"I'm sick of talking", Robin warned, his voice low and angry.

"Well, I'm not", Cyborg exclaimed. "You've been spacing out more than often lately. We need you, Robin. You're our leader, Robin! And your mistake today very nearly got Star killed!" His angry voice tailed off in a yell, and Robin whirled to face him now, his eyes angry slits behind the mask he wore.

"I know that! You don't think I don't know that? I can't get her eyes - god, her _eyes_ \- out of my head!"

"Well, there's an easy way to fix that, Robin! Let us in. We just want to help! We-"

"I don't need help!" Robin yelled. "I'm fine!" His chest was heaving, and he stared up at Cyborg with a glint to his eyes that Cyborg hated to see.

"Yeah, _you're fine_! You _don't need help_! But you do, Robin! You skulk around the Tower, you cut us off, and you cut us out. It's killing us - you're not around enough to see the tears in Star's eyes when you brush off her help, or the smile that slides off B's face when you point blank ignore him. Raven has to leave the room when you're in there, because your aura is hurting hers! We're your team, we're your family!"

"You're not my family!" Robin finally broke, and yelled right in Cyborg's face. " _You_ are not my brother - my brother is six feet under, buried in a City that I can no longer call home, and you want to talk to me about _family_?" His yell trailed off, and all that was left was the shattered silence that lay between them, and the look of grief that Cyborg wasn't quite quick enough to hide.

Cyborg cleared his throat, and raised his eyes to Robin's his human eye swimming with unshed tears.

"Well", he said, and his voice was low and husky, and broken in a way that Robin hadn't heard since the night Cy had sat down with him and talked about the family he had to leave behind.

"At least we know how you feel now. And it's good to know that _you're_ fine, because the rest of us sure as hell aren't."

And then he turned on his heel and walked away. And he didn't look back.


	5. Warnings

Cyborg's back disappeared around the bend, and Robin slowly lowered the hand he had raised towards his retreating friend, closed his traitorous mouth that had failed to call out. He dropped his head and ran a hand over his hair, letting loose a cloud of dust, that swirled around his nose and entered his clogged lungs. He choked out a cough, which turned into a strangled sob of anguish that manifested in clenched teeth and curled fists.

His fist met the wall in a clang of metal and the resounding crunch of his bloody hands surrendering rang up and down the desolate hall. He raised his hand again and punched the wall, each hit mirrored by an explosive breath that ran out of his mouth like a horse out of the starting gate, until his knuckles were split and raw, and the wall was pockmarked with scuffs and swipes of blood. He lay his forehead against the metal, letting the cold seep into his thoughts, and when he next raised a fist it fall to a limp palm across the wall, his hammering heart slowing from the rush in ears to a low whistle in his chest.

Jason was dead, Cyborg likely hated him now, and would surely tell the Titans exactly what he thought Robin meant, and the Red X suit, _his_ creation, was missing, and was being used by a madman robber with no semblance of remorse for the lives he destroyed as he rampaged the city.

 _Great._

Robin pulled himself from the wall and trudged wearily to his room, thoughts only on a shower and a nap, and how in the world he could possibly fix everything he had broken.

! !

The bags under his eyes looked like the healing bruises mottling his bound ribs, and his hair was in a loose shambles as he sat at his work desk. Papers were strewn across his workspace, cluttered with pens and highlighters and open books. Blueprints for his Red X suit were first and foremost in the mess, several key paragraphs or words circled in thick, red marker. Several empty cups of coffee lay strewn around his ankles, and his taped fingers pressed down on the table as he stared down the blatant information that glared back at him.

Several pieces of paper were pinned to the wall in front of him, small strings of red yarn connecting a large map of Jump City to files of information pinned in a lopsided circle around it. Yellow pins were scattered throughout the central part of Jump, symbolistic of the banks, pawnshops, and jewelers that had already been hit by the mysterious Thief. He'd struck twice more since the pawnshop incident several days ago, and Robin had to wonder why he was suddenly upping his attacks.

Directly under the map were two objects, pinned to the wall next to two scrunched items, smeared with dust and blood.

From the Thief. Warnings.

At the time of the bombing, he had failed to recognise the shuriken as a plausible threat - had been too slow to recognize it for what it was truly meant to express. And Starfire had nearly paid the price with her blood. They had both been lucky to only get off with minor injuries - cracked ribs and a twisted ankle was a penalty much lighter than whoever planted the bomb had planned.

The two attacks - he thought of them as that now, for the Thief - _Red X_ \- seemed to barely acknowledge the civilians he caught in harm's way, and several had already been hospitalized since the attacks had first burned across the city like wildfire - had left him with more questions than answers, and, if he was honest to himself, doubts and even fears.

Frustration and anger - it seemed to rule his life.

And so, one night, after the other Titans had retired for the night, he had snuck to the garage to retrieve his R-Cycle, hating how he felt like a stranger in his own home, and left under the cover of darkness.

He had ducked under the loud police tape that circled the rubble of the pawn shop, and he had dug and dug until the dust had gleamed red.

That night he returned home with a betrayer's weapon stashed in his back pocket, and a niggling fear lurking at the back of his throat.

After every altercation he barely drove the team, and he knew they could feel it, and would disappear into his room for hours on end, studying the papers in front of him until his eyes were bloodshot and his body quivering with fatigue. He was missing dinners, and, on the rare occasions he emerged from his den, the others had to hide their shock at his disheveled hair and lined face.

The first few days they had tried to help - they had all knocked on his door at some point or the other, even Raven, whose hunched posture betrayed a worry she would not readily admit. Cyborg had not knocked, but several times he had seen him falter as he walked past his door, his red eye flashing up to the camera that was placed discreetly above his door, before his frown would furrow itself deeper into his brow, and he would walk away.

Starfire stayed longer than the rest, and he had to steel himself against her soft voice calling through the metal, the gentle pitch of her voice twining around his throat and pulling tight. Each night she would bring a tray of food, and linger until it was cold, before pushing herself to her feet with a tired sigh and walk with a slight limp that betrayed his failure, back to the common room to dump the congealed meal, before locking herself in her own room.

One day, after watching the screens for so long he was seeing double, he looked to the monitor displaying his door security footage, a screen he had steadily been ignoring for the past two hours, catching himself every time he would turn to it, feeling the pull of his injured ribs. Starfire was slumped against the wall, tray forgotten next to her. Her beautiful absinthe eyes were hidden by tired lids as she slept, waiting and waiting for him to return her pleas. His reserves broke then, and he found himself standing, ready to move to the door, only to pause when he saw Cyborg's familiar bulk walking down the hall.

He reached Star and stared down at her with an affection akin to an older brother, sighing as he took in the cold meal placed next to her. He gently pushed her firestorm of hair from her face and pulled her into his embrace, standing with her cradled in his arms, her sleeping head slumped against his shoulder. Cyborg looked directly at the camera, and his eyes burned through the circuits and straight into Robin. Cyborg sighed again, before turning, with the sleeping Starfire in his arms, and walked down the hall and away from Robin.

Robin watched from his desk, the light touch of his hands on the screens opening the security footage for Star's door, and watched as Cyborg gently pushed the sequence to open the door, careful not to jostle the sleeping alien princess in his arms, before entering her room. He gently placed her on the bed, pulling covers over her petite body, and dropping a gentle kiss to her brow, before shutting off the lights and returning to his own room, closing the door quietly as he left.

Robin dragged a hand over his tired face, his taped fingers catching on his nose, and he brought them before his eyes to study the bruising and scratches riddling his knuckles.

He had been so close.

The latest attack had been in an antiques store a bare three streets away from Beast Boy's favourite pizza place, and the streets were uncharacteristically empty as the Titans sped to the scene. Beast Boy's constant stream of commentary was uncharacteristically silent, and Robin knew they felt the same sense of unease that he felt. It was too quiet.

They cautiously walked into the antiques shop, taking in the layerings of dust over the displays and the shelves lined with grandfather clocks that ticked incessantly as they spread out throughout the shop. As sudden chime made him look up sharply - there, above their heads, sitting for all the world as though the dusty rafter beams were a throne, lounged Red X.

He waved a casual gloved hand.

"Yo."

The Titans sprang into action, Raven and Starfire flying up the rafters, both sending thick bullets of energy that he dodged as easily as if he were dancing. He responded by throwing out several small red balls that fell to the concrete floor in front of Beast Boy and Cyborg with a chink.

With a hiss of compressed air, red gas spiralled out of the balls, turning Beast Boy and Cyborg to faint silhouettes in the smoke as they coughed and waved their arms in a vain attempt to dispel the smoke that cloyed and choked them. Their hoarse yells and coughs were soon swallowed by the smoke, which was so thick Robin could barely see in front of himself, let alone see the others. Raven and Star hovered above the smoke, their hands clasped over their faces to avoid the smoke that spiralled up like blood in water to claw at their bodies.

Cyborg and Beast Boy were lost in the smoke, and he could see Star and Raven slowly drooping from their heights.

 _Anesthetic gas_ , Robin thought, and swished his cape in front of his mouth, his eyes desperately trying to scout out his team members in the diminishing visibility.

A yell drew his attention upward, and he barely had time to brace as Red X threw himself at Robin, knocking him to the floor in a movement that set Robin's ribs on fire all over again. With a grunt Robin cast him off his body, and Red X disappeared into the smoke once more. Robin spun, trying to find him, and felt a thick blow to his back that sent him to the floor with a muffled grunt, but, when he turned around once more Red X was again gone. He pulled himself to his feet, and drew his staff, extending it fully and bracing it in front of him like a shield.

A swish in the smoke clued him in just in time to spin and see Red X throwing himself bodily at Robin, who threw up the staff to protect his torso from wounding, feeling a betraying twinge behind his aching ribs. Red X kicked out as he came down, his booted foot catching Robin's hand, sending him stumbling back with a yell. He could hear Cyborg and Beast Boy weakly yelling from somewhere behind him, and he could feel the effects of the gas entering his unprotected lungs. It nestled deep within his chest, insubstantial as cotton wool but weighing him so that his movements were slow and sluggish and his staff blurred double across his vision.

His hand was smarting in strikes and pulls of pain, and he guessed a number of his fingers were dislocated, if not broken. Red X appeared from the smoke once more, and his mask doubling and tripling around Robin, shadowed and dark but glinting with spatters of red that Robin's addled brain could not connect as blood or paint.

He towered over Robin, who stumbled back and found himself on his ass, his staff kicked effortlessly from his hands. Red X leaned in to Robin's sight, and his voice echoed several times over, his mask fading in and out, making Robin feel as if he were back in the funhouse mirror room of his parents' circus. He waved a piece of black fabric in front of his eyes, and Robin had to furrow his brow with the effort to concentrate on it.

Red X rested on his haunches, his mask taunting Robin, swaying the fabric back and forth, back and forth, in front of his unfocused eyes.

"You always were his Golden Boy, weren't you, Robin?" he said, as he used one finger to push his half raised torso firmly down to the dirt.

"Give him my regards", Red X hissed, flicking the fabric into Robin's lap, before he walked into the smoke, his back broad and secure as he left, and all Robin could do was reach a trembling hand out to his retreating back, before he fumbled with shaking hands at his belt. He felt the slim canister slip into his palm and with his last reserves of strength he slammed it to the ground, feeling the canister break under his palm, and he mentally counted down.

 _Three._

 _Two._

 _One._

A rapid burst of air blasted through the store like a whirlwind, dispelling the coiling smoke, and leaving all five Titans lying on the ground, breathing harshly into the silent air, knowing that, once more, they had failed.


	6. Fallout

The fallout from that battle was worse than the fight itself.

It lasted long into the night, in the form of screamed words, and thrown accusations that hurt more than any wound ever could.

Cyborg led the charge, his voice weighted with words he struggled not to say, but his eyes said more than his conflicted voice ever could. Robin knew he had failed. He could feel it in his bones, feel it in the weariness that lay across his shoulders like a shawl, dragging him to earth. Cyborg was yelling accusations and Robin found himself responding in kind, their voices raising in a pitching crescendo that crashed high above their heads, like two monstrous tidal waves meeting in a boom of noise.

Starfire pushed between them, the brunt of the words falling on her like physical blows, and rested her calming hands on their chests, trying in vain to keep them apart.

"Calm, Cyborg!" She yelled, then turned pleading eyes to Robin. "Please, Robin. Explain."

He stared at Cyborg, whose chest was heaving and his face drawn in hard, unapproachable lines. He would not understand, he knew, and Robin turned away with a sigh, shaking his head to try and clear the fog.

"So that's it?" A small voice said off to his left.

Raven stood there, her beautifully dark eyes shining with tears that she refused to let fall, and her voice shaking with emotion.

"After everything - _everything_ \- we've been through, you keep from us the most important fact?" Her hood was pulled up, despite how they stood in the middle of the living room, standing off around the ridiculously oversized couch that Cyborg and Beast Boy insisted on. But her shadow was growing further and further from her feet, like ink coiling through water, and her voice had a dangerous lilt to it.

"We _all_ could have been seriously injured! It's not enough that you lock yourself into your room, and never come out, but now you keep from us the one thing that could give us a lead on this _freak_? It feels like you're punishing us, Robin. What did we do!"

Her voice faltered, and her shadow seemed to withdraw back into herself, and the hate that Robin carried like a lead weight seemed to triple, chained around his neck tight. He hated to see Raven like this - the weak, insecure girl who he had first pulled into his embrace. Her voice was quieter now, frayed around the edges like the rope that Robin was so desperately holding on to.

When she spoke, her sobering voice drew them all silent.

"What did we do? What have we done?"

He ran a tired hand over his face, flinching when he clenched the fingers he had forgotten he'd injured. He inspected his swelling hand, pulling his glove from his hand to inspect the split skin over his hardened knuckles.

"It's not as simple as that."

Two elegant, tan hands entered his shuttered sight, and Starfire grasped his hand between hers, gently and softly, as if she held a bird with a broken wing between her palms.

The guilt niggled at the back of his neck, hissing static up his spine until his entire skull was buzzing with the whispers of regret and anger.

He wanted to pull away.

He wanted to draw closer.

He closed his eyes with a shaking breath, and let Starfire's warmth flow through his frozen veins, if only for one second more. Then, as if not to break the small eternity built around them in frail walls, he pulled his hand from hers, and tightened his shoulders against the pain.

"I had my suspicions - I didn't know for sure until today."

"How long." It was Starfire's quiet voice that cut through the tension. He couldn't quite meet her eyes, scared of what he might see.

"After the bomb at the pawn shop. I got distracted…" His voice trailed off and he had to clear his throat before he could start again. It ached to keep his eyes off Starfire, but he could not bring himself to meet her expectant gaze.

"I got distracted by a red shuriken… One I made myself, for the Red X suit."

"So you knew then?" Beast Boy, who had been uncharacteristically silent throughout it all, finally spoke up. His voice was thick with hurt, and his green eyes beseeched Robin to deny it, to set it right.

"No! I mean - I _suspected_. But it wasn't until I got home and I checked the vault. I meant to tell you - I was going to! But then I saw Cyborg, and we fought. It was a stupid thing, and I couldn't tell him after that, and I- I didn't know how-"

Cyborg cut him off sharply.

"You didn't know how? You _didn't know how?_ Jesus, Robin! We're a team! Regardless of whether we're fighting or not, we need to know stuff like this! You can't keep us in the dark forever!"

He stalked up to Robin, his face set in hard lines that made him seem more robot than human.

"How could you not notice? How-"

"How could _I_ not notice? What about you? I was out of town, and _you_ were the one who let this psycho slip past _your_ defenses. How can you blame me for what's happened?"

"Oh, that's rich, pretty boy." Cyborg spluttered angrily. "So it's _my_ fault now? You were the one throwing accusations - according to you, I'm no longer your _'family'._ Well, Robin? If we're not family anymore, are we still a team?"

The silence was deafening, and Robin faught to raise his chin and stand firm under the scrutiny of the four presented before him.

"I don't know, Cyborg. Are we?"

Raven stifled a gasp and walked swiftly from the room, Beast Boy following her with eyes that begged to help, and pleaded for help in return. Cyborg sighed, tearing his gaze away with a force that felt like it was breaking more than just their line of sight. Robin turned as well, leaving Starfire alone in the lounge, her feet firmly planted on the ground.

As he left her heard her whisper to herself, in a voice that hitched with breathy sobs, "is this _Rekmas_?"

 _Rekmas_ \- the point where friends start to drift away from each other.

The end.

It certainly felt like it.


	7. So You Do Bleed

When the blaring of the alarm came in through the loudspeakers, bathing the commons in a light reminiscent of blood, almost like a warning, Robin nearly gasped out loud in relief.

It had been an uneasy few days.

Now he leapt up from the couch on the side of the room, and swiftly ran to the garage with a swirl of his cape and mask. He could feel the presence of the Titans behind him, and revelled in the sense that they were right behind him, if only physically. He had desperately been trying to repiece the puzzle that was them for the past week, subtly trying to increase the hours he spent in the commons, and help the other Titans with the mundane, even so little as cooking and cleaning. But Starfire's words still echoed in his mind, and he felt it pulse and pull with every blare of the alarm.

 _Rekmas. Rekmas. Rekmas._

He knew no words could mend the break that lay between them, and instead vowed to keep the fractures from spreading further, burrowing deeper into the speculative minds of his friends.

 _Friends._ Did he still have the right - no, the _privilege_ \- to call them that?

The thought stayed with him as he led the charge on his R-Cycle, speeding through the City. The comm in his ear was charged even as it rang still and silent, but he could sense the girls above his head, lithe forms making flying look as easy as breathing. Beast Boy and Cyborg followed behind in the T-Car, and the throaty growl bolstered his confidence, settling the simmering that lingered between his lungs, nestled deep.

The message that had accompanied the blaring sirens was short and to the point - break-in at InterCity Banking Collective, masked assailant, suspected armed.

He knew exactly who that would be - and the anger that started to simmer in his throat made him lean into the final corner all the more faster. He barely spared time to click on the auto-lock to save his bike from skidding into a nearby building, and threw himself bodily at the large circle of buildings presented before him - InterCity. Several gleaming skyscrapers surrounded a large concrete commons, where a fountain bubbled merrily, as if unaware of the sirens that surrounded it, nor the police tape that blocked off the door to the main Bank's vault building. Or where the door _used_ to be - it was now a gaping, smoking maw, where firefighters inspected the melted debris and warped metal.

He stopped just long enough to catch the T-Car's screeching stop, and Beast Boy's wide-eyed gaze take in the scorched metal, before he ducked under the tape and took the stairs at a running start.

Starfire's breathy gasp had barely caught in his ear when he heard the boom.

! !

The building gave a mighty tremor, as small rivulets of dust trickled down the staircase walls. Robin pushed his burning legs faster. One gloved hand was pushed to his ear, desperately yelling into the comm for a response.

A heavy _clunk_ from behind him sent him spinning to inspect the flickering staircase behind him - the explosion had rendered the building silent, as the mighty generators and lights rumbled to a stop. It was eerie, and his harsh breathing echoed cruelly in the dark.

A red dot swayed upwards from the murky dark towards him, and he lowered his fist into a defensive stance as he stared into the dark. His shoulders were tensed beneath his cape, and his legs squared against the steel stairs.

The red dot solidified into the panting form of Cyborg, emerging from the landing below. His broad shoulders were grey with dust. With a soft sigh Robin relaxed just enough to lower his fists. His angry voice rang between them.

"Cyborg! Where have you been? I've been calling you for the past three minutes - where are the others? Where is Starfire?" He demanded, and Cyborg pulled himself to the stair below, his bulk still taller with Robin, and the way he looked down on him sent his spine shivering.

"Comms are down, I think your boy is blocking us. As for the others - Beast Boy is flying to help Raven and Star. There was an explosion, don't know how bad yet, comms went down as we heard it. Best to get to the roof."

Robin nodded, and led the charge once more, listening hard for any signs of the BB or the girls.

It had been ominously silent since the boom that had fractured the building around them. The closer they got to the top of the tower, the larger the cracks that seemed to chase them up the stairwell.

It seemed the building would collapse at any minute.

With a gasp and a leap Robin burst from the stairwell onto the rooftops, and had to shield his eyes against the unexpected glare of several floodlights set up around the rim of the building. There was a large crater blown out of the side of the building, as if a giant had come in and taken a bite out of it, and the edge of the building was slanted down in a slow tumble of debris.

Swift blinks and shielded hand allowed his eyes to adjust and he scanned for the others, turning just in time to see a flash of black thrown bodily his way - _Raven._

She slammed into him and he just managed to wrap his arms around her and roll midair so his back hit the ground first in a vast smear across the ground, as their momentum carried them nearly to the end of the building. His back was square against the concrete lip, and his arms were locked around Raven. She groaned against his chest, her head moving for her to stare blearily up at him before falling to his chest again. A large gash above her brow tinted her skin in shadow and smoke, and her hands were split and bloody against the grey concrete.

As gently as he could he rolled her off him and tucked her small frame against the lip of concrete, knowing that she needed time to kickstart her self-healing process. A swift glance up showed Cyborg standing in front of them bodily, protectively, plasma gun ready, while Beast Boy and Starfire were dive bombing in and out of the smoke, leaving jet streams like fingers reaching for the stars with every swoop.

Beast Boy, skin stretched taught in the body of a large pterodactyl, gave an angry cry at Raven's small form, and dived for her, his human feet hitting the ground at a run until he skidded to a stop next to her. Her eyes were opening now, the gash above her brow shutting in a gleam of dark light, and she gave a bleary _don't-you-dare-coddle-me_ glare to Beast Boy, who simply set his jaw determinedly and helped her to her feet, gripping her tight around the waist when she slipped, pushing them body to body.

He stared down at her, gently releasing her waist from his warm grip, before pulling her hands into his own, giving a disapproving frown when he saw the ripped skin over her palms. He ran a gentle finger over her palms, soft and sweet, feeling her eyes on his face. A cheeky grin spread across his face like sin, and before she could protest he swiftly formed into a large dog, complete with thick fur and thumping tail, and licked her palms with a tongue dripping saliva.

Raven gave an utterance of horror and disgust and jumped back, as Beast Boy changed back, his hands wrapped around his ribs as he laughed.

"Gross, Beast Boy!" Raven yelled, kicking a piece of debris towards him, which he dodged easily, face still twisted in a shit-eating grin.

"Ay, I read somewhere that dog saliva has healing properties - but, look at you, bouncing back! Must have worked." With a wink and a grin he jumped into the air, transforming into an eagle and soaring above the smoke, while Raven shook her head and focussed on her hands, where a black light illuminated the closing cuts. Anyone looking close enough would have seen the small smile that flitted over her lips, before she swept her cloak back from her legs and readied to join the fray once more.

"That's all nice and all", Robin yelled from the other side of the roof. "But, battle, remember?" he yelled pointedly, and Cyborg had to give a small sigh. Robin. Ever the love killer.

He hadn't even seen the enemy yet, but he had a feeling deep in his gut that it was the red-rat-bastard. With a determined set across his forehead, he pushed into the smoke, and was instantly lost in what felt like smoke and mirrors. Sound was distorted and he saw all around him flashes and visions - the bright glare of Starfire's hair as she landed next to him, the startling colour of her eyes, completely overtaken with a green that seemed to drip acid, the flashing light of one of Robin's smoke-dispellers rolling to his feet.

 _Smoke-dispellers. Huh._ His brain clicked at the same time as the small diffusion device, and he turned in a moment, shielding Star against his chest as the small _ting_ sounded, and the smoke all around them was cleared in one _whush_ and expulsion of dust into the air.

And, above him, the stars were so, so bright.

Across from him, he saw Robin gain sight of Starfire, saw the realization of her safety lift his cramped shoulders and release his tense fists.

He turned towards them, was about to run, run to her, when a booted foot connected to his shoulder from behind and Cyborg saw Robin fall to his knees in the rubble.

Red X stood behind him, and Cyborg could tell that even through his mask he was smiling.

 _Bastard._

Starfire seemed to have the same thought because with a cry of rage she launched herself over Robin's bent head and onto Red X's chest, where she kicked off from into a flawless backflip that left him slightly staggered. She landed inches above the ground, her hair swaying around her head like a maelstrom of violence, her hands fisted around green lightning and her eyes throwing off sparks. Red X settled onto his haunches, and threw up crossed forearms when her eyes spat out lasers of molten destruction, the green glancing off his gauntlets like water on oil.

She paused briefly, confusion flitting across her face as the glow in her eyes simmered, and Red X took the advantage, launching himself across the gap between him, only to be knocked aside by Robin, who clasped his arms around Red X as they both fell to the ground in a mess of writhing limbs and tangled expletives.

Robin gave a muffled curse and let go of Red X when he felt the pinch of electricity seeping up his ribs - _the bastard had tried to taser him_. He rolled off to the left, and felt the singe of air across the nape of his neck as Cyborg took advantage and fired off a volley of rounds at Red X, only one of which caught a glancing blow against his forearm as he sprung into a back handspring and retreated to a few metres away, staring them down with his faceless mask.

Robin looked at Red X's forearm - his suit was ripped, and blood seeped through, bright against black. He gave a smirk.

"So you do bleed." Red X gave a small, conceited shrug, then settled into a fighting stance, ready. He ran towards Red X, feeling rather than seeing his team at his back. His family.

He felt his spirits lift. This time. _This time._ This time they _would_ get him.


	8. Waning War

He landed a roundhouse kick against Red X's ribs that sent him back into Beast Boy's gorilla fists, who grabbed his arms and threw him bodily across the battlefield, to where Cyborg blasted him from the sky. He rolled to a stop at Raven's feet, and she spared him a glare and a muttered, "Well, hi there!" before she launched him into the sky, where Starfire slammed him back to Earth with her green blasts, the illumination showing her furious face.

 _God help the man who stood in front of that_ , Robin thought drily.

Starfire bore down on him, throwing blast over blast, and over the din and noise of the concrete cracking beneath her assault he became aware that she was yelling, screaming something, strung into a necklace of anger and Tamaranean and English all in one shriek as she fought him.

"You! You nearly caused _rekmas_. You are the _scum_ of this Earth! You _monster!_ " She bore down on him once more, but Red X saw her coming this time, and moved in movements almost too quick to perceive. He jabbed at the soft exposed skin of her side, and when she shuddered to the side he reached, and grabbed her by the throat, lifting her whole body off the ground and slamming her down so hard that cracks radiated from beneath her still form.

"Starfire!" he yelled, and it echoed around him threefold as he jumped at Red X. Red X turned and simply _grabbed_ his flying foot, spinning his body into the charging bull that was Cyborg, and bounced backward to avoid Raven and Beast Boy's assaults. Behind him Starfire was picking herself up from the ground, and he saw several deep gashes running down her back, staining the muscles dancing beneath the surface a deep red. With a soft yip of pain when she moved her ribs she readied herself for the fight ahead, and Robin was never more proud than in that moment to call her teammate and friend. A warrior.

He hauled himself up onto his own feet and offered a hand to Cyborg, who grabbed his forearm in a warrior's grip heartily, letting him lever him up onto his feet. Beast Boy was charging Red X as a rhino as Raven flew to assist Starfire, who waved her off with a quick smile and small thanks.

Red X did not let them recover for long, springing into action. He dodged Beast Boy's charge, pulling a small device from his belt and threw it at Beast Boy's feet. It unwrapped into a deep blue rope that wrapped around his ankles, tripping him and pulling tight, illuminating a deep blue as it electrified. Beast Boy's pained yells echoed across the rooftop, and Cyborg yelled in kind, anger saturating his tone as he changed his gun back to his hand and steadily charged Red X face on.

Cyborg missed two hits, took three, landed one.

Red X fought fiercely, and Cyborg felt himself losing ground, Red X using his small, lithe form to duck around Cyborg's lumbering frame. Cyborg could feel the anger in his flailing hits; knew that it was making him slug like a common rabble rouser, but _dammit if he couldn't catch that rat-bastard_.

Cyborg swung out in a wild haymaker, only for Red X to dodge as simply as if he had never been there in the first place, and Cyborg felt the firm kick of a boot in his back, sending him spinning forward. He swung out, wildly, again, and again Red X dodged simply and swiftly.

Cyborg could feel himself tiring, and was glad of it when Beast Boy once more joined the fray, hair standing on end and bared teeth a fanged grimace against his emerald skin. He shifted to a dark raven, but Cyborg could see his movements were sluggish and his eyes slightly glazed. The shock had taken more out of him that it should have - _thank goodness he was such a large animal when the pulse hit him, or else…_

Cyborg shook it off and joined the fray once more, glad to have the support around him - Raven and Starfire hovered a distance away, firing bolts and shots that simmered deep into the concrete, leaving treacherous craters for loose ankles to swim in. Robin leapt once more from his right, his staff extended and gleaming in his hand, and landed a glancing blow across his chest. Beast Boy swooped above them, changing midair from a glimmering raven of gloss and beady eye to a large pterodactyl, claws extended as he dived for Red X's exposed shoulders.

They fought together. One unit. One family.

But Red X turned the fight as quickly as they had - he threw up a shielded arm, caught Beast Boy by one voluminous wing, and tossed him across the cracked roof towards the girls. Starfire swooped out of the way in a curtain of red hair and glittering eyes, but Raven paused, raised one hand in a slow attempt to catch his fall, only to catch the full body blow as he landed across her, throwing them both to the edge of the building.

Raven groaned under his weight, giving his - now human - head a nudge from where it fell between her neck and shoulder, only to shake more fervently when he only moaned in response but made no move to get off of her.

"Beast Boy?", she began. "If this is another stunt, I swear to Aza-"

Her voice cut out when she maneuvered enough to glimpse the side of his face - he had gone pale beneath the sheen of his skin, and his jaw was clenched so tight she could see the muscles straining beneath the surface.

"Beast Boy?" She asked again, this time her voice a whisper. She maneuvered once more, slowing her sharp movements when Beast Boy gave a gasp of pain that radiated like ice down her collarbone, until she leaned against the crumbling lip of the building, Beast Boy lying flush against her stomach.

Gently she turned his body towards her, until his upright face was staring up at her from her lap. His eyes were glazed with pain and his bottom lip was caught in the snared grasp of his fangs. His hand was drawn tight against his ribs, and a bloodied fist circled his bicep. Raven gave a soft gasp when she saw the stain of blood against the purple of his uniform, and gently tried to pry away his fingers so she could see the extent of the damage.

Starfire hovered anxiously behind her shoulder, and Raven waved her off in the direction of the others, knowing they needed help; Cyborg was down on hands and knees, trying to regain his wind, and Red X and Robin sparred in a flurry of moves so quick and intricate it almost looked rehearsed. With a nod and one more concerned glance at Beast Boy, Starfire turned once more to the fight at hand.

Beast Boy gave a swift moan of protest at her prodding, and drew in a sharp breath when she tugged his hand free, mirrored by her own gasp. The skin under his hand looking like it had been flayed off, and she could see several tattered and torn layers of muscle, and even a few shards of bone, nestled deep in the injured flesh. When she took two shaking hands to the edges of the ragged wound, trying to see a way to make it better, Beast Boy gave a short yell of pain and turned and buried his face into her hip, focussing through foggy breaths on her musk and incense smell. His body was tense against Raven's legs.

She forced a soothing breath, and mustered the last of her energy that throbbed deep in her spine to conjure a glimmering shadow around her hands, laying them on Beast Boy's arm. His eyes were flitting closed, and the blood that leaked down his arm stained the concrete a deep red.

"Beast Boy?" She murmured his name as the slow, painful process of healing began. She could feel that this would take a long time, and steeled her aching bones and tired eyes for one last miracle. Beast Boy's body shuddered and flinched as the magic accessed his veins, and every now and then his legs would spasm from where the electricity had torched a winding brand around his ankles. It _hurt_. By God, did it hurt.

It hurt Raven too - one to hurt beast Boy, but two, to draw on the last reserves of her energy, having been expended early on from her own injuries. The blood had just began to slow when she felt a shift in the air behind her, and she tore her hands from Beast Boy's wound to throw up an energy shield, feeling the tug of it deep like a needle between the bones in her neck. She watched with vaguely distanced shock as a large chunk of rubble shattered across her wavering force field, lifted an aching hand to strengthen the shield as another brick shook her shield.

Beneath her raised arm Beast Boy writhed in pain, mouth open in an empty scream. She couldn't afford to lower the shields, but she couldn't expend the energy to protect and save without expelling too much energy. Making a quick decision she cast a shield in front of their cowered forms and gently placed Beast Boy on the ground. With a swift slash of her arm she ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of her cloak, which was tatty and cloaked in dust. Gripping Beast Boy's arm she tied the cloak around it, pulling it tight against his bloody skin and clenched teeth screams.

She leaned him up against the building wall, straightening his twisted legs and gently folding his arms against his chest. She could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his chest and his skin was slick with sweat. She settled herself down in the dust next to him, her legs suddenly feeling weak beneath her. She knew she was no good in the fight now - her energy was depleted, and if she moved that left Beast Boy open to attacks.

Beast Boy's head lolled to her shoulder, and she found her eyes drawn to his. Even in pain his mouth was set in that damned smirk of his.

"Shit day, huh?" He muttered, and she felt a small smile grace her lips, pulling against the tiredness that tugged at her bones like a rabid dog.

"The worst", she muttered back, a small breath fluttering from between pursed lips as she drew her brows tight and focussed on strengthening the shield around them.

Beast Boy's head slid further down her shoulder, and she could feel the soft downy touch of his hair tickling her neck, where her own hair stuck to her nape with a thick slick of sweat. Beast Boy mumbled something, but his voice was indistinct and his tongue heavy.

"What?" Raven mumbled back. She tilted her head to see his face, and saw his eyes drifting shut. His body against hers felt feverishly hot. _Shock._ She had to keep him awake.

"Beast Boy? Beast Boy!" His eyes were closed now, and his soft breaths murmured down her chest, right over her heart.

"Garfield!" He cracked one eye open, and his mouth slid into a crooked grin.

"That's…" His voice trailed off, and he started again. "That's the first time I've heard you say my name. I like it."

She laughed a soft sigh, but upon feeling his turnt forehead to her cheek felt the glisten of heat and sweat against her. He was hot. Too hot.

She shifted and laid a hand against his throat, feeling the flutter of his pulse against her palm like a butterfly straining for the surface. She moved her hand to his cheek, giving him a gentle slap against his cheek. His eyes flitted open once more when she whispered an urgent "Garfield!", but his eyes slid off her face as if he had trouble focussing.

He smiled sweetly at her, as innocent as a spring lamb, and raised a trembling hand to her face, then let it fall to her shaking hand on his cheek. He turned her wrist over, exposing the white, sensitive skin to the light, and pressed a small kiss to her skin with a butterfly touch. His fingers caressed her healed palm.

"You're beautiful", he mumbled to her blushing and frozen stare, his eyes closing and his hand falling as he slumped against her body once more.

 _Delirium,_ she told herself. _System shock and delirium._

But a small smile stole over her worried face and the shield around them gave a soft buzz with a renewed sense of vigour and purpose.

! !

Robin was losing speed, while Red X only seemed to be picking it up. Cyborg watched from a wary distance, listening to the steady hit and yield of flesh on flesh, bone on bone.

His chest heaved in shuddered breaths, and with a soft sigh and shake of his head he once more joined the fight. It seemed like it would never end.

He had seen Beast Boy go down hard with Raven, and from the corner of his eye he could see the small bubble that enclosed them, the shimmery shield like a waterfall of shadow, hiding them within. He hoped they were okay - he had heard Beast Boy's pained breaths and laboured grunt when Red X had thrown him, had briefly seen a flash of red against vivid green. He just hoped that Raven had a handle on it, and knew that even with the shield they would be vulnerable and out of action. He vowed to keep Red X's views only on him, Robin and Starfire - the ones still standing.

So when Red X launched the first chunk of stone - how he did it in between trading blows with Robin and Starfire he would never know - he managed to blow it off the side of the building. The second and third he missed but he caught a fist in the gut for his trouble either way.

Red X gripped Robin's staff, bearing down on Robin with a force so strong he bent to his knees, then savagely ripped the staff from his hands. He threw it hazardly over his shoulder, causing Starfire to duck wildly, lest she be caught across the nose with the enforced bar, then kicked Robin down, landing a punch on Cyborg behind him.

Cyborg winced for his aching side, slightly at wonder for how this kid - he presumed - could casually hit his reinforced side with no sign of physical pain whatsoever. Starfire recovered from her midair lurch and landed a squared kick across Red X's back, tucking into a neat front flip that landed her directly in front of Red X. He barely paused however, and simply pulled two concealed knives from his waist and lashed out at her, while behind her Cyborg and Robin were still catching up.

He leapt and prodded her across the roof, like a fencer across a stage, and she felt herself distancing from Robin and Cyborg. She glanced away for a second, checking that Cyborg and Robin were once more on their feet, and felt the swift swing of a blade across her high cheekbone. It cut a deep blaze of pain across her face, and she could feel the blood well in the grimace of her teeth, painting her a macabre smile.

She gave an angry yell, and when he next brought his blades down in a cross swing for her neck she reached up and grabbed them, feeling the deep bite of the blade into her flesh. She felt the minute hesitation of Red X as he bore the blades down on her, and felt her bloodied grin slide wider with blood as her palms cut open and leached down her wrists.

Again she pushed harder, until Red X was forced to take a step back.

Still she held the knives, and still she bled.

Her hands were glowing a brilliant neon green and Robin and Cyborg watched in varied amazement as the metal of the blades started to drip down her skin, staining her in blood and metal. She gave a hiss of anger and pushed back with a yell of fury, letting go of the knives and sending a stumbling Red X back a few steps.

For a second all three of them simply stared at the Tamaranean who stood before them, hair dishevelled and hands dripping blood and anger.

Red X turned a glance to Robin, and beneath the mask a small _tsk tsk tsk_ noise rang out. He dropped the melted handle of one knife, but held the other close, as if inspecting the blade for dullness.

"Robin, I see you've been hiding the real guns." He relaxed his body from fighting stance, and simply stood, for all the world a normal man - if not one wreathed in blood and agony. He stepped closer to Starfire, close enough to feel the heat exuding her skin, and reached a hand to her face. She slapped it away with an angry glare, leaving a smear of blood and smouldering metal on his black glove.

"Is it really fair, Robin dearest, to hide this power from the world?" He taunted as he circled Starfire like a shark with prey.

Robin took an angry step forward, his bruised fists circled and bleeding through his gloves.

"Don't touch her." He warned in a low tone.

"I mean, it's hardly fair that you didn't tell me about the strength of this beautiful brute." He gave an appreciative wave of his hand, and Robin felt Cyborg bristle next to him at this backhanded compliment.

"Hardly fair?" Cyborg asked incredulously. "Says the one who pulled knives in a fist fight!"

"Knives?" Red X said, twirling the melted handle of his fighting knife between bloodied knuckles. "If knives are so bad, what about this?"

He reached his belt and pulled a small blue box, and Robin felt a sink in his gut when he saw the blinking light. _Electric bomb_. Harmless to him, but to Cyborg, whose body mostly consisted of metal and electrical components…

Red X gave one tip of his hand to his audience, ever for the flair of the dramatic, then volleyed his arm like a cricket pitcher, throwing past Robin's reaching arm and Starfire's confused gaze to land with a _thunk_ on Cyborg's chest.

He stared down for a second of confusion, before it burst into a stream of silver light and expanded over his chest like a parasite, locking his limbs as electricity clawed his skin. He gave a muffled yell of pain, his arms and legs seizing as he fell backward with a yell of pain and anger. His arms and legs threw out sparks every so often, and Robin could see his red eye blinking in and out of focus. His teeth grimaced and through clenched jaw and fisted hands he gave several growls of pain, the electricity making short work of his system. It would take a while to shake _that_ off.

Starfire stood behind Red X now, the very picture of righteous fury. Her green eyes flickered over into demonic neon once more.

"What have you done to friend Cyborg? Fix him at once!"

Red X gave Robin a look that seemed to ooze conceit even through the material of the mask.

"'Friend Cyborg'? Jeez, Robin, you always did have a knack for picking up the weird ones. You know. _Your people._ You guys are hilarious. Like a class-A circus act. But then again, you know all about that, don't you, Grayson?" If he wasn't wearing a mask he would have winked.

Robin was so lost in a fit of anger - three out of four of his teammates down for the count, some _punk_ cracking jokes about his family - that he missed one crucial detail as he charged Red X.

The gun in his hand.


	9. GONE

The gunshot shattered the world.

Damn near nearly shattered Robin's femur too.

Felt like the damned thing had when it burrowed its head in his thigh, with an arch of blood and the angry hiss of blood between his teeth as he hit the ground.

Starfire lay on the ground next to him, her green eyes staring at him worriedly from where he had pushed her to the ground, just in time. As far as he could see, she had no new injuries.

 _Good._

 _Bad._

 _Stupid, Grayson! You should have seen the gun. Stupid. Stupid. STUPID._

The chant burrowed deeper into his head with every ache that tugged at his thigh. Red X lounged above him, lifting a casual hand with all the time in the world to wave in Robin's face.

"You don't look so good down there, Robin. Wings feeling a little clipped, down there on the ground?" Behind him, Robin could see Cyborg flexing his fingers, testing, testing. Earlier than anticipated, but no less welcome.

He just needed to stall until he had a clear shot with his plasma cannon.

"Slightly", he smirked up at Red X. "Shouldn't have complained about the knives."

"Hmm, I know", Red X mused. "Although your little girlfriend did break my favourite set - how's she gonna pay up, huh?" His gaze turned to Starfire, who lay beside Robin. She had subtly been trying to wriggle closer to him, and Robin could see that her right ankle was twisted at a painful angle and she was missing both boots. The soles of her feet were scraped bloody and raw.

Robin moved with a grunt to lay his hand over her chest, feeling her stammering heartbeat beneath his hand.

"I don't know. Maybe if you ask nicely she'll blast you off the roof."

Cyborg caught Robin's eye as his lips formed the words, and with a swift nod and jerk of his arm, had the plasma gun armed and ready. Robin forced Starfire's head down to the dirt, using his turned back to block her from the brunt of the blow, and through squinted eyes he saw Red X get caught in the back with a burst of blue, and fly from their rooftop to the next.

A moment of stillness, silence, and then.. A _whoop?_

Red X stood from the other roof, one fist raised almost in salute - although Robin noted with satisfaction that he held his left side gingerly, and one arm hung low at his side. His shoulders were coated with dust and there was a large hole in the back and side of his suit, where he had caught the worst of the blast. Robin couldn't be too sure, because of the distance, but, beneath the suit, it looked like his skin was… scarred?

"Until next time, old chap." Red X said, raising his good one to give a mock salute, and condescending nod.

Robin's thoughts went blank except for one thought. _No._

 _No._

 _No._

 _No._

They couldn't have got so close, received such terrible injuries, all for _nothing._

He tried to stand, but his legs crumpled beneath him and he fell to the concrete with a muffled oath.

When he tried once more it was Starfire who held him down.

When he looked up, she was not looking at him. She was looking at her goal - the smug figure one rooftop away - her vision clear and determined. She was blood soaked and stained, covered in gashes and bruises, not to even mention her _hands_ , but none the less she clenched her fists, no indication of the pain that must have lanced her palms from the action, and settled low onto ragged feet, ready to fly.

Robin thought he must be crazy to love a woman that looked so beautiful wreathed in blood.

Red X took one step back at the ferocity of her glare, gave one more salute, and called a cheery; "Catch me if you can, princess", unknowingly - perhaps - calling her by her given title.

She was only too keen to oblige. She took a small running start, limping on her injured ankle, but took off with such force that she left cracks webbing the concrete where her feet had stood.

Behind him Robin was aware of the shimmer of Raven's shield fading, Beast Boy's garbled "wasss happenin'?" and Cyborg's grunt as he levered himself to his feet and lumbered over to assist Robin.

They all watched the green streak race across the skyline after Red X, buring clear and bright against the dark blanket of the night sky.

They all saw the small speck that chased her, heard the connection, saw the green light falter, and then fall, fall, fall.

Robin levered himself to his feet, no spare thought for pain, and ran to the edge of the building to look down, falling to his knees at the ledge.

She wasn't on the ground. She wasn't there at all.

! !

She was gone. And so was Red X.

Smoke and dust blew in a gentle breeze and for a second he just looked. Looked at the rubble, the debris, the lights of the city spread before him like a map, and he was filled with a sense of loss so strong his muscles seemed to seize and his breath caught at the lights that glimmered and twinkled so beautifully.

Loss dispelled into anger like ink in water and the breath that was caught in his clogged throat was expelled in an angry breath that turned to a scream, echoing up and up into the dark sky.


	10. In The Dark

They looked. Of course they looked.

But there was nothing. Nothing.

And Robin felt there was nothing left of him either - he had given his all, every thing he had for this Red X, this _bastard_ , and now Star was gone and so was he.

Nothing. All for nothing.

! !

The ride home was the most stifling silence any of them had ever endured.

Cyborg had to help a stumbling, near delirious Robin to the T-Car, and the team averted their eyes from his dull and glazed eyes. Raven and Beast Boy followed in a hunched tangle of limbs, shuffling to the T-Car with no more words to speak, and tears that were smeared in blood. Robin let himself be lead without a fight, and Cyborg wished, _wished_ , that he would fight back. Yell. Cry. Something.

His scream had echoed and warbled into the night sky, and it was the last sound to shatter their silence for a long time.

! !

Robin was at a loss.

His leg throbbed as he paced, but he ignored the healing wound and placed a pale hand on his jaw. His eyes jumped skittishly from paper to paper, where the wall above his headboard was plastered with them, small, fine red strings criss crossing maps and CCTV printouts alike.

There were so many links, but they were like fragile spider webs, breaking off and drifting away from him. They had searched for Starfire for hours, hoping that they would find her curled up in the rubble, inevitably injured, but safe. But there was no sign of her, her tracker was a dead light on the map on his wall.

How he ached to hold her in his arms. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he needed to. Big stuff, apologies and confessions to be whispered against her smooth skin. Small stuff too, like how he loved the vibrant green of her eyes, the swish of her hair, the tread of her feet.

The others were slowly losing hope. He could see it in the bags beneath their eyes and the droop of their shoulders. It had been several long days since the battle, and the dark voices that slithered between their lungs were growing louder with every silent day.

But he was determined. He would bring her home. She would hear every single pitiful apology that could trip from his tongue, and he would stop _rekmas_ , before he lost more brothers in arms than the one buried so far away.

! !

When she woke, there was a cool touch on the inside of her wrist, a caress against her bare skin.

Her lips murmured a husky, "Robin", as she stretched her skin under the touch and instinctively tried to pull closer. A thumb traced over her veins, once, twice, then pulled away. She gave a small whimper and reached out for the warmth, fighting to open her heavy lids.

She strained, finally pulling her eyes open against the tiredness that nawed thickly on the base of her neck, fuzzing her brain with a layer of static.

She expected to be back at the Tower, could feel the soft comfort of a thick blanket beneath her, cradling her body. But it didn't smell familiar.. It was a mix of sweat and engine grease, green grass and thick pine. It was different from Robin's leather and musky hair gel.

One lid pried open, then the next. Above her was a high vault ceiling of sturdy beams, carved down gracefully to the wide arch of a french casement window, the panes covered in thick black paint put on in dizzying strokes. This wasn't the tower. Panic was slow to trawl through her sluggish veins, but when it did, it felt like her entire body was shot with ice.

She followed the line of the window, down the dark wooden curve of the wall, across the concrete floor, to herself. Her body was swaddled in a thick black blanket, but several spots were slick with blood. Her bare wrist, the only part of her that stuck out of the swaddling, tingled.

 _The touch…?_ With a gasp she twisted her neck to the right, and, when she saw Red X lounging on a chair against the opposite wall, one leg crossed casually across the other, she fought back against the tight grip of the blankets to place one shoulder against the wall. She lay on her side to watch him for several tense moments, then, when he gave no intent of moving, tried to sit upright.

Bad idea. Her world swirled in spots of racing red, like a splatter of blood, and her body was suddenly shot through with a fierce agony that made her whimper and pull her chin tight to her chest as she tried to breathe through the pain. It sliced up her hands, which she would see now were caked with dried blood. Underneath it all, fresh blood oozed from deep gouges in her palms.

Her back felt as if someone had used it for a springboard, and her feet throbbed and ached as if she had walked over live coals, again and again. A thin sliver of pain shot across her cheek when she pulled her lips into a grimace, and she remembered the flash of steel as it whistled towards her. She remembered everything.

The battle nestled between her lungs like a weight, stiffened her swollen windpipe a deep blue from where it was ringed with _his_ touch. Her forearms were a mess of burns and blood, and she swallowed stiffly past her dry throat and her tongue that stuck to the roof of her mouth.

Finally she maneuvered herself to a sitting position with several groans and huffs, bracing her aching stomach muscles to take her weight. Her forearms, shaking and bleeding, swam before her vision, and she tucked them tight to her chest as she struggled to breeze past the whistle of her pulse in her ears.

He sat and watched her dispassionately from behind the mask, although his legs were uncrossed and his shoulders seemed tense beneath his disguise.

She watched him from beneath hooded eyes, but, when she tried to talk, the words burrowed deep behind her teeth and refused to spill into the open air between them. Her body swayed weakly when she leant forward, and through her dizziness she thought briefly she was going to fall straight off the bed.

He made a move towards her then - a quick movement of fluttering palms and open fingers. With a heavy intake of breath she thrust her right palm in front of her as a warning, but all it produced was a dull crackle of heat that danced once across her fingertips and then fled.

The action sent her awash with a new agony and she didn't have the strength to push him away when he caught her body before she fell, slipping on hand to her shoulder and another to the tender spot on skin on the nape of her neck. Dully her brain fought the fog for long enough to notice that his hands were without their black gloves. His knuckles, broken and bloody, sat oddly on such elegant fingers. In another life he could have played piano, pulled sweet notes into the air rather than blood from others' bodies. Their touch was cool against her feverish skin.

Her head swayed on shaking shoulders as she fought against everything to not fall forward on his shoulder and sleep, but she was jolted when she felt a _click_ against the nape of her neck, and a heavy collar settled against her collarbones.

She reared away from him, pushing him from her as if he was on fire. Trembling fingers explored the thick chain link around her neck, pressing deep to the bruises that marred her orange skin a sick black. She was well familiar with the feel of a collar around her neck - the Psions had not been gentle with their experiments, so many moons ago.

Fear reared to life then, ripping the air from her lungs as she pulled desperately at the collar. Already she could feel the hum running through her teeth as her last vestiges of power were stripped from her body. Her green eyes turned a glare to Red X, for she had no other name to call him by, narrowing to dangerous slits as she realized in his hand he held a slim device, recording her every move.

With one last burst of energy she launched herself at him with a scream, catching the top of his hand with her nails before she thudded to the ground on heavy knees. Toppling forward she managed to twist her shoulder beneath her so she rolled flat on her back. Red X towered above her, framed by her blackening vision. She tried once more she reach him, to conjure anything righteous from the fear and anger that mingled in her breast, but all that came out was a whimper. Turning her face from him, she curled deep into herself, closing her eyes to welcome the darkness as the last of her power drained away.

The last thing she felt was a hand smoothing her hair away from her face, and then she was lost to the dark.


End file.
